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Me: Okay, this is my first ever Kratos story so don't expect anything too well-written. I own nothing.
Kratos’ hand wandered up to his throat, where a silver locket resided around. It had an intricate design and there were three letters on the front, entwined with each other. K and A with a tiny L at the bottom. They were entwined together with a curving and twisting line that formed their initials into a tiny triangle shape. His hand gripped the locket tightly as the Martel Temple came into view.
Then his light brown, almost red, eyes narrowed as his sensitive angelic hearing picked up sounds of metal clashing on metal coming from the Temple. His hand dropped from his neck as his walk became a run. He cursed and prayed that he wasn’t too late.
As he reached the temple, instead of going up the stairs, he took the quickest route and went up the grassy hill on the side. He drew his sword and stepped into the path of the rather big man, effortlessly blocking the mace. His eyes swept past man to the soldiers behind him. Renegades. Then a voice spoke up behind him.
“Who…who are you?”
He turned his head ever-so-slightly as to see the speaker but his gaze landed on three children. There was a blonde girl, wearing white Church clothing, most likely the Chosen and a small boy, with unusual silver hair and wearing sky-blue clothing. Half-elven. Then his gaze landed on the boy dressed in vibrant red clothing, who was using his wooden sticks, they couldn’t even classify in the same genre as swords, as a means of staying upright. His hair was a chocolate color and spiked up at the front. He…seemed…so familiar…
“Get out of the way,” he stated coolly. His words seemed to have rekindled the fire of determination in the boy and he brought himself to a standing position, jaw set and eyes glaring. “Hmph. First Aid.”
The boy was embraced with the warm glow of the healing spell and his wounds vanished. With a renewed spirit, the brunette charged at the rather large Renegade soldier. This boy seemed to be some sort of leader to the other two, for as soon as the boy had charged, the other two children had forced themselves upright as well. He murmured the words for a healing spell and the two were bathed in the green healing glow.
“Stay back,” he warned them, going after the Renegade with précised aim. “Sonic Thrust!”
He had already decided to restrict his spells to only First Aid. After all, it would not do for his ‘mercenary’ cover to be blown merely because of his skills.
“Fireball!” the half-elven boy cried out from the back. Kratos swiftly took several hopsteps backwards to avoid being pelted by the fireballs the boy had sent in the Renegade’s general direction, not thinking what would happen should he or the boy in red be hit. But nevertheless, the attack nailed its target and sent the man flying back. It was then that the robe-wearing man decided to intervene and ordered his men to retreat, noticing that Kratos had arrived.
“Is everyone alright?” his eyes swept over the children for any damage. His gaze kept coming back to the brunette boy in red. Why? “Hmm…no one seems to be hurt.”
“How can I ever thank you for saving the Chosen?” the elderly woman came up to him, her expression was of gratitude. He closed his eyes for an instant and as he opened them again, he slipped into his ever familiar role as a wandering mercenary.
“I see…so this girl is the next Chosen…” he exhaled. Then the blonde seemed to remember something as she clasped her hands together in front of her body.
“That’s right!” she exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face. “Grandmother, I’m going to undergo the trial now!”
This cheerful girl… Did she know what horrible fate lies in front of her? The fate that Lord Yggdrasill…Mithos laid out carefully for every Chosen before her? Or perhaps she was simply acting strong, for the sake of her friends.
“What trial?” the brunette boy looked confused. Kratos mentally sighed. Did the boy really expect the Chosen to just waltz around, saving the world?
“The monsters, I assume,” he stated automatically, looking up at the swirling light from the top of the Temple. “An evil presence radiates from this chapel.”
“Yes, that is correct. The Chosen is to receive judgment from heaven. But the priests that were to accompany her fell at the hands of the Desians.” The elderly woman nodded in response to his previous statement. Desians. Tch. The Renegades were clever, Kratos had to give them that much. This way, everyone would think they were Desians because of their uniforms and blame the Desians, never suspecting that there was a secret organization out there.
“Then I’ll take on the job of protecting Colette!” the boy in red declared, looking quite determined. However, in the next instant, the elderly woman shot down his hopes.
“Lloyd? I would be uneasy with just you.”
“Phaiiiidra!” the boy complained. He said something else as well, but Kratos didn’t catch it, for he was in shock. The boy’s name…was Lloyd? Surely there was no way… Could he write it off as mere coincidence? Or was it fate? Come back to torture him of the past…?
“Your name…is Lloyd?” he found himself asking quietly. This would strike most people as an odd question, and indeed, the elderly woman known as Phaidra gave him an odd glance.
“Yeah, but who are you to ask for my name?” Lloyd raised his eyebrow, his tone was rather cocky but didn't seem to be laced with any suspicion.
“…I am Kratos, a mercenary. As long as you can pay me, I’ll accept the job of guarding the Chosen.” He replied, directing his words more at Phaidra than Lloyd. Lloyd…could it possibly be his Lloyd? He couldn’t bring himself to hope…and then have his hopes dashed if this was a different Lloyd. After all, Lloyd was a common boy’s name…
- - -
Anna…
Kratos sat in front of the gravestone at Lloyd’s house. It was a simple gravestone, with words carved crudely into it.
Anna Irving
May Martel rest her soul in peace.
Anna… Could it be? This Lloyd…
“Hey, you okay?” came a voice behind him. Kratos immediately registered the voice as Lloyd’s and spoke to him without even turning around.
“Whose…gravestone is this?” he asked hesitantly, inwardly holding his breath.
“Ah, you heard, right?” Lloyd managed to crack a small smile. “It’s my mom’s.”
“Anna…hmm…” Kratos exhaled, never admiring his wife as he did now. Even dying, she had managed to…to keep Lloyd safe. Even in death, she continued to protect him. Part of her will always remain in Lloyd’s exsphere… She had managed to protect him…like he hadn’t been able to. “Is your…father still alive?”
“I…don’t know…” Lloyd looked downcast again. But he retaliated quickly and a smile appeared on his features again. “But Dirk is my dad.”
“…Yes. That was a careless thing to ask. I’m sorry.” Kratos replied quietly. Lloyd…he’d found himself a new father. A father that was much more worthy than he ever was.
“…That’s okay,” Lloyd mumbled as he wandered away.
Forgive me, Anna. I’ve finally found our son again, only to take away his best friend forever. I’m torn. If I stay with Lloyd, Yggdrasill will surely finish the job this time. Maybe it’s better that he never know… After all, he already has Dirk. And he has his friends. Anna…
“Mr. Kratos!” the Chosen’s cheery voice penetrated his thoughts. He looked up to see that the teacher, the half-elven boy and the Chosen were already on their way out. “We’re leaving!”
“…Of course, Chosen,” he murmured, standing up. As they left Dirk’s house and into the Iselia Forest, Kratos looked back one more time, his whisper overlapped with the loud rustling of the tree leaves.
“Goodbye, Lloyd…my son…”
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